It's not the same
by Noah0z
Summary: I've been jotting things down for this fic ever since I read JLA 105. I finally feel like I can get started on it now. I feel that Bats and Wondy have too strong of a friendship now for him not to offer at least some support. So here's what I got.
1. Chapter 1

I've been jotting things down for this fic ever since I read JLA 105. I finally feel like I can get started on it now. I feel that Bats and Wondy have too strong of a friendship now for him not to offer at least some support. So here's what I got. More soon though.

It's not the same

Part I

She touched down lightly on the balcony. It was late and although Ferdinand was probably up she didn't want to disturb anyone. She walked gingerly up to the French doors and out of habit checked the door to make sure it was locked. Given the height of the balcony it was highly unlikely that anyone would tamper with it, but you could never be too careful in her line of work. Reaching to her belt she removed a small magnetic keycard and slid it into the electronic lock next to the door. Hearing a soft buzz, she twisted the handle and heard the familiar click of the lock opening. The door swung inward and she stepped over the threshold and turned to close the door. The door's locks reengaged with a slight whirr behind her as she padded into her room. She didn't bother with the lights as she began stripping off her dirty uniform and headed towards the bathroom. It had been an extremely long and dirty day. Between the Abernathy's problems and her own close call she was exhausted. She shivered involuntarily remembering the blade being forced down on her. Her breastplate dropped to the floor with a muffled thunk, as she began hopping on one foot trying to relieve herself of her right boot. Consumed by the task at hand she was startled when a gravely voice sounded behind her.

"Diana?"

She covered her bare chest and turned quickly to face her familiar intruder. Batman emerged from a darkened corner of her room, the shadows reluctantly giving him up to the dim moonlight that lit the room.

"People will talk if you keep showing up here, Bruce."

"According to Clark they already are talking"

Diana couldn't see him, but could detect the amusement that laced his voice.

"Who told…?" She asked.

"J'onn."

"Ah... She nodded slightly with comprehension." Makes sense though."

Bruce merely grunted in reply as he stepped towards her bed. Clearly keeping his distance she noted. His hand reached around to his back and emerged out from under his cape with a manila folder. He tossed it onto the bed and turned back to her.

"It's everything I could find out about the woman that attacked you. Not much though, she disappeared not long after she was taken into custody. Preliminary DNA tests show no trace of the meta gene so she's just highly trained. Her weapons seem to be mystical in origin. I'm having Blood take a look at them. Shouldn't take long. I'll let you know when I find something"

While he was talking Diana had walked over to her closet and retrieved a t-shirt. Keeping her back to Bruce she slid it over her head. Pulling it down she turned back to thank him but he was nowhere to be seen. The only trace that he had even been there was the moderately thick folder lying on her bed. She really needed to figure out how he did that.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

He hadn't called. If he knew something he would have. She didn't really know why she was here. Why she would seek comfort in this damp and depressing atmosphere. She just wanted to be somewhere other than home. He already knew she was here. She had no doubt that that was true. There was very little that escaped his attention. That fact alone most likely contributed to his longevity. He also had the habit of surrounding himself with the things he needed the most and relegating the other things to more obscure places. This was probably why she found herself emerging from the transporter deep within the bowels of his sanctuary. After the earthquake he must have deemed the transporter of little use to him. Her boots clicked softly against the stone protrusion as she walked out on to the connecting platforms and catwalks. The only light that she could see was spilling from the open door way of the transporter and it stopped short of reaching the catwalks. She stepped onto the catwalk slowly, letting her eyes adjust to the pitch black of the cave. Lighting hanging from the ceiling of the cave blazed to life as she stepped on to the grating. The lights snaked their way through the various platforms, leading the way to the main platform.

"Trying to lead without actually leading again, Bruce," she muttered?

She made her way across the expanse of cave, carefully avoiding guano that occasionally littered the walkways and counting the cameras that lined the walls.  
She silently wondered if he had ever actually caught anything incriminating on those cameras. She doubted if he would admit to someone breaking through his security though. Chuckling softly to her self she waved at a nearby camera.

As she neared the heart of his sanctuary, the cave opened up into a sprawling expanse. To her right an area appeared that seemed to be his garage. Batmobiles in various stages of assembly filled the area. Closest to her she saw the remains of the Batmobile that Mrs. Abernathy had lit ablaze. Its various pieces had been gathered and now sat on or around the ruined cars body. She stepped off of the lighted path and examined the vehicle closer. The air around the car still held the pungent odor of charred rubber and plastics. Flash had told her later that Bruce had been pretty upset about its destruction. She could see why. Even in its ruined state she could see at one time it had been a machine bred for performance. Like nearly all of Bruce's toys, she noted.

Weaving her way through the various incarnations she made her way towards the rotating platform where the current model rested and her lit path resumed. Walking past the vehicle she couldn't resist the urge to let her fingers trail across its sleek black exterior. As soon as her fingertip touched the surface a loud chirp erupted from the car, startling her and causing the bats above her to shriek and chatter. As the silence settled back over the cave she heard a soft chuckle behind her. She turned to see Bruce again stepping out from the darkness. As he stepped forward the light above him buzzed noisily on.

"Only you would turn your car alarm on inside this place." She said as her arm gestured to their fortress like surroundings. He shrugged slightly as if it was the obvious thing to do.

It had taken until then for Diana to realize what she was observing. He was dressed in his batsuit- the cape, cowl, and gloves discarded elsewhere. A pair of heavily tinted safety goggles rode high in the tangled mass of dark hair. Diana walked towards where he stood, a small smirk still playing lightly on his lips. As she neared she noticed that he was extremely filthy. Black grim covered nearly all of his upper body and outlined where the goggles had once been on his face.

"You are a very dirty man."

"You wouldn't believe how many dates have told me that." He replied with a straight face.

She arched a finely formed eyebrow in disbelief. She wasn't really sure if he was joking or if he was serious. Either of which would disturb her immensely she decided.

"That's funny. I forget you can be funny." She replied.

The look in Bruce's eyes betrayed nothing as the phrase reminded both of a time when both death and love had been close for them. She cleared her throat lightly and changed the subject.

"So…what are you doing?"

"Casting batarangs."

"Sounds fun."

"Very therapeutic actually."

They both smile at their respective attempts at humor, as an uncomfortable silence fell over the cave.

Bruce broke the silence.

"So why are you here Diana?"

"I wanted to see if you had found out anything more about my mystery assailant."

It wasn't actually a lie. She actually did want to know if he had found something.  
Bruce brushed by her and began walking towards the main platform. She fell quickly into step behind him. Bruce picked up a towel from a nearby workbench and tried in vain to wipe the grim from his face. After several unsuccessful attempts to remove it all, a highly amused Diana stepped forward to lend a hand.

"Here. Let me, "she said. Oddly enough he held the now dingy cloth out to her.

She took the towel and damped it under the faucet at the workbench. She stepped close to him and began wiping away the blackness and revealing the paleness of his flesh beneath it. He closed his eyes as she gingerly wiped around his eyes. Underneath her fingertips, she felt his jaw clench tightly. Stepping even closer, she ran her fingers lightly across the tiny red marks that littered his neck and lower jaw. She heard him inhale softly before he spoke.

"Stray sparks when I'm casting." He offered in explanation.

"Oh." She answered softly, while dabbing at the marks with the cool of the towel.

She stood on her toes as she leaned close to his face and wiped the remaining soot from his forehead. Their breath intermingled for a moment before he spoke again.

"I do have some news, but first tell me why you're really here."

Her eyes, which she hadn't realized were closed, snapped open and she stepped back away from him.

"Well at least you look presentable now."

Bruce was no longer in the mood for jokes.

"Why?" He repeated.

"I'm not really sure. I just wanted to get away from the embassy and for some  
reason, I was drawn here.

He seemed to accept that and turned to the workbench. On it rested a small chest that Diana could see by its dull gray exterior was lead. Must contain something radioactive, she supposed.

"What's in the chest," she asked curiously?

He opened the lid and Diana was immediately struck by a queasiness in her stomach. She'd only felt this way once before and that had been recently.

"Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"I'm fine." She managed. "I thought you said Jason had her weapons?"

"He does." He reached in to the box as he spoke. "I have the sword fragments."

In his hand he held a silver sliver of metal. No more than an inch long, but as he held it towards her she felt the feeling getting worse. Seeing the effect it was having he returned the piece to its chest and slammed the lid shut.

"I've never felt like this around radioactivity before." She said while leaning against the workbench.

"It's not radioactive. I told you, the weapons were magical in origin."

"Then why the need for a lead chest?" She asked slightly confused.

"I borrowed the chest from Blood. It's supposed to be shielded magically."

He nearly spat the word magically out of his mouth. Diana knew how much Bruce detested magic, yet he brought several magically enchanted objects in to his sanctuary to help her.

Again he surprises her.


End file.
